


Check

by the_deep_magic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cock Worship, Docking, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere, Derek’s convinced, Stiles has a checklist, one that he’s been compiling since he hit puberty, of every single sexual act he’s ever wanted to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an extra for the week 3 [](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/)**mating_games** challenge (Kink Grab Bag), but I quickly realized that it wasn’t really going to be a 750-word pornlet (or finished that week), so I made it a fic in its own right. ~~I’d say Derek’s cock deserves it, y/y?~~

Somewhere, Derek’s convinced, Stiles has a checklist, one that he’s been compiling since he hit puberty, of every single sexual act he’s ever wanted to try.  Derek has never actually _seen_ said list, but when Stiles starts a sentence with “Hey, so I’ve been thinking about…” it never exactly sounds spontaneous.  And that makes sense – he’s always been a man of research.  Derek is particularly thankful for the internet in this case, because god knows what lengths Stiles would have gone to in order to obtain this information without it.

Derek’s also sure the list has been subjected to some reordering over the years, particularly when he and Stiles first got together his sophomore year of college, because Stiles started out gently with him.  Well, not _gently_ , per se, because there’s that crack in the drywall that Derek never bothered to fix and the bed’s on its fifth headboard and the washing machine still makes a grinding noise, but overall fairly basic.  At first, it was mostly vanilla stuff – scarves, feathers, temperature play – but now, a year and a half later, Derek’s never even heard of some of the things Stiles asks for.  Always casually, never while they’re naked or in bed.  Stiles has also learned from experience to wait until Derek is neither holding nor actively drinking a beverage.

Mostly Derek says yes, and then they talk about it.  Sometimes Derek says no, and they don’t always talk about those, though Stiles always listens when Derek does.  Sometimes he wants to think about it, and Stiles always gives him as much time as he needs.  Sometimes Stiles wants Derek to do something to him; sometimes he wants to do something to Derek.  It’s a pretty even split there, except when it comes to one thing: Derek’s dick.

The betas always joked that Stiles was obsessed with Derek’s dick long before they actually started hooking up (which was never really “hooking up” – it was always going to be what it is now, but Derek wasn’t really able to think that far into the future back then).  Derek figured it was a joke, too – until they’d been together about a week.  By then, it was so obvious that Stiles didn’t need to verbalize it, but being Stiles, he said it anyway.  He was red to the tips of his ears, but he looked Derek right in the eye and said “I’m kinda obsessed with your cock, a little bit.  Except without the ‘kinda’ and ‘a little bit.’  I really hope that doesn’t weird you out, because I don’t think it’s just a phase I’m going through.”

And it _had_ weirded Derek out at first, just a little, simply because he’d never been with anyone who bothered to pay that much attention, beyond the obvious sucking and fucking.  But Stiles likes to kiss it, lick it, just touch it and hold it – even when it’s soft.  Even for Derek, who has a complicated relationship with his own body (has a complicated relationship with _everything_ , actually), it feels… good.  Gratifying in a way that words aren’t, can’t be.  Stiles never neglects the rest of Derek’s body – far from it – but he always gives special consideration to his cock.

At first, Derek put it mostly down to the fact that Derek isn't cut and Stiles is.  He got introduced to docking early on, something that must have been very high on Stiles’ list.  It felt a little strange for Derek, but Stiles kept making these soft, amazed sounds and Derek legitimately thought Stiles was going to cry when Derek got too hard for them to keep going.  But Stiles regrouped quickly, got his hand around both of their dicks, and jerked until he came so hard he nearly passed out.  Even though Derek hadn’t done much of anything, he still felt like howling with pride when Stiles lay shivering in his arms, blissed out because of _him_.

Stiles still rarely resists the urge to play with Derek’s foreskin, but Derek knows it’s about more than that now.  Stiles takes the whole thing oddly seriously, too – he’s never tried to give Derek’s dick a pet name or anything cutesy like that (though he did refer to it as “pretty” once, and Derek kind of drew the line there… with his eyebrows).  Mostly it’s just Stiles turning that laser focus of his on part of Derek’s body, on worshipping every inch of it and constantly finding new ways to make Derek claw clean through the mattress until the box spring is in danger.

So he always listens to Stiles’ suggestions, even when they’re brought up a little too casually while Derek’s watching Top Gear with the sound on low and Stiles is doing his best to chew right through a highlighter cap while reading the same page in his p-chem textbook over and over again.

“It’s a little… different,” Stiles says carefully, and Derek doesn’t know whether to be horrified or intrigued.  “And it requires some pretty specific equipment, but I think you might like it.”

Derek slaps the textbook closed and gets Stiles to explain, in detail.  And pull up pictures on the internet (which he’s already got bookmarked, no surprise there).  It isn’t like anything they’ve ever tried before, and some of the pictures are downright terrifying, but Stiles assures him that those are _really_ not beginner stuff, and that they’d start really small and stop immediately if Derek didn’t like it.

After half an hour, Stiles has been chewing his lower lip until it’s puffy and swollen, like he’s nervous, like _this_ will be the tipping point that finally scares Derek away for good.  “We can try it out on me first, if you want,” Stiles says, and though he doesn’t look put off by the thought, it’s obviously not what he wants.

“No,” Derek says.  “I trust you.”

The luminous smile that blooms across Stiles’ face would make Derek agree to almost anything.

&&&

It only takes him a few days to get what they need, and frankly Derek’s a little surprised it takes him that long.  It’s obviously something he’s been thinking about for a while, and that alone is enough to get Derek’s blood moving faster.  He doesn’t quite see the appeal of the act itself yet, but if Stiles wants to do it this badly, Derek figures there has to be something to it.

Stiles strips them both, grinning impishly, and pushes Derek back against the little throne of pillows he’s made at the headboard.  It’s completely ridiculous, but Derek sometimes wishes he had the words to tell Stiles how much he likes it when Stiles spoils him.  He doesn’t remember exactly when he stopped feeling guilty about it and started just _feeling_ , but the shame has slowly eroded under Stiles’ steady touch, his warm eyes, and his sweet, wicked mouth.

The amazement Derek feels, though – he hopes that never fades, not when he gets a lapful of gorgeously naked Stiles kissing him into the pillows like he can’t get enough of Derek’s mouth.  He lets Stiles take the lead, groaning helplessly as Stiles trails soft bites down the column of his throat.

Stiles continues his path down the center of Derek’s body with single-minded focus, more eager than usual to get straight to Derek’s cock.  He seems to resist taking it into his mouth for as long as possible, playing with Derek’s foreskin, laving the shaft with soft little kitten licks that drive Derek crazy.  He hardens quickly under the attention, particularly when Stiles starts sucking on his balls and running his tongue beneath the foreskin, circling the crown again and again until Derek starts to twitch with the need for more.

Contrary to rumor (that he’s pretty sure Stiles _started_ before they were even sleeping together), Derek’s cock isn’t huge.  It’s a decent size – maybe a little above average – and he’s never had any complaints, but way Stiles looks at him, touches him, he feels like a giant, a sex god.  And to be able to hold Stiles’ attention for so long, his eager curiosity and concentration…  More of Stiles’ latent magical ability, Derek likes to think, because it’s hard to imagine anyone else making Derek feel like this.

Derek is seconds away from begging when Stiles pulls his mouth away, and Derek bites back hard on a whine, because it’s _Stiles’ mouth_.  But Stiles still has a firm hold of him with one hand, idly tracing a prominent vein while he reaches for the lube, and then an open case on the nightstand.

Christ, there’s a whole set of those things – _sounds_ , they’re apparently called – ranging from coffee-stirrer thin to the width of Stiles’ pinky.  Stiles must feel Derek tense up, because he presses a wet, lingering kiss to the tip of Derek’s dick, complete with a little flick of his tongue that sends a pulse of lightning down Derek’s spine.  “We’re only going to use the smallest one, I promise.  The others are for stretching.  If you want to try that later, we can, but I don’t think your healing ability will allow for it.  I’m pretty sure this will be enough,” he says, picking up the thinnest of the straight metal rods.

There are different kinds, Stiles had shown him on the computer, some with twists and bends that look like medieval torture instruments.  Stiles had claimed that they’d be able to tease Derek’s prostate from the inside.  But Stiles’ fingers do that well enough – pretty brilliantly, actually – and Derek chose the set of ramrod straight sounds with thick metal fobs on one end.

Stiles needs both hands to slick the entire thing very thoroughly and warm it up to his body temperature, but he also rubs lube around the head of Derek’s cock, focusing on the slit, and Derek’s hissing already with how sensitive it is.  He’s still nervous at the prospect of putting something _into_ his dick, but Stiles probably knows that part of him better than Derek knows it himself, and he knows from past experience that Stiles will stop immediately if Derek shows any signs of discomfort.

Working very, very carefully, his tongue poking through his teeth, Stiles manages to insert the thin tip of the sound into Derek’s slit.  The stretch burns a little, but more than that, it just feels strange.  Derek doesn’t remember the first time he fingered himself, but it must have felt something like this – new and foreign, a sensation that his body’s not quite sure what to do with.

Stiles eyes, though, have gone wide and round, and when he raises his head, Derek can see that they’re almost entirely pupil.  “Okay?” Stiles asks, panting a little like he’s been holding his breath.

It’s lucky Stiles doesn’t expect more than a nod, because that’s all Derek can give him at the moment.  The same goes when Stiles asks, “More?”

The burn goes a little deeper – no more than a centimeter, maybe two – and the strangeness overtakes him and Derek’s starting to worry he won’t be able to stay hard.  But when Stiles breathes a soft “ _Oh my god_ ” right across the wet head of Derek’s cock and holds the sound in place while he rubs a thumb rhythmically under the crown, Derek stops thinking altogether.

He hears a gasp of “ _more_ ” and doesn’t even realize it’s come out of his own mouth until Stiles nods and slips in a little more of the length of it.  The burn is subsiding now, even as Stiles lets go of the sound and gravity slowly, slowly pulls the rod in deeper.  They’re both watching it now with wide-eyed fascination, Stiles’ hand still wrapped firmly around Derek’s shaft as his thumb continues to caress that sweet spot and Derek feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin.

Just at that moment, Stiles asks, “What does it feel like?”

“It – _unh_ – it’s… strange,” Derek manages, slipping down from the pillow throne as he squirms a little.  “Like coming in reverse.”

Stiles bites his lip, eyes practically bugging out of his head as the sound sinks down until the round metal ball at the other end is resting at the tip of Derek’s cock.  “Good?” Stiles asks, his voice shaky, and Derek nods.  “Okay, then, what if I…”

Stiles gently pulls the rod out a few inches before slowly pushing it back in, and it’s a damn good thing he’s got such a tight grip on Derek’s cock, because Derek’s whole body shudders, his abs pulling up tight at the sensation.  His brain still can’t quite decide if it’s pleasurable, but it involves Stiles’ hands on his cock, so Derek’s body is all for it.

Encouraged, Stiles’ eyes take on an intense shine as he sets up a slow rhythm, fucking Derek’s cock with the thin piece of metal.  The sounds that come out of Derek’s mouth are soft and wordless, but he can’t help them any more than he can help the bit of precum that oozes out of him when Stiles pulls up on the sound.  When it’s back in all the way, Stiles squeezes him firmly and the pressure on the _inside_ of Derek’s dick is maddening.  He had no idea there were so many nerve endings there, but it’s a fullness, an intimacy, that rivals the times when Stiles is fucking him in the traditional sense, hips flush against Derek’s ass as he buries himself deep and stays there.

“Tell me when you’re about to come,” Stiles murmurs, and he looks so adoring, so reverent, that Derek has to tip his head back to hide his flushing cheeks.

Which is how he misses Stiles lowering his mouth to Derek’s cock without stopping the thrust of the sound.

He obviously can’t take Derek full in his mouth like this, so he seems to settle for pressing wet kisses all over the shaft, licking around the head while dropping his other hand to play with Derek’s balls.  It makes Derek groan, and he feels another blurt of precum stopped short by the sound.  Derek’s not sure whether he can come with it still inside him, but it feels too fucking good to ask Stiles to stop.  And Stiles is _moaning_ against his cock even as his hand stays perfectly on pace with the motion of the sound.  His tongue finds that sweet spot again and Derek is suddenly _there_.

He manages to choke out, “Stiles, I’m gonna—” just in time for Stiles to pull the sound free and it’s like Stiles is yanking his orgasm right out of him.  Derek’s back arches off the bed and he shouts as Stiles strokes him through it, tight and steady and devastating.

As a dedicated student of Derek’s cock, Stiles knows exactly when to pull his hand away, and before Derek can make a move ( _if_ he can make a move – that’s debatable at the moment), Stiles is up on his knees and using Derek’s spunk to slick the motion of his hand as he jerks himself off, hard and fast.  Stiles is watching Derek’s face the whole time, and Derek wonders what it is he sees there, because Stiles comes mere moments later, his entire body going rigid as he shoots all over Derek’s stomach and softening cock.

Derek’s expecting it when Stiles collapses half on top of him – whether it’s because Stiles genuinely can’t hold himself up or he just needs the skin-on-skin contact, Derek doesn’t know, but he welcomes it even as he grumbles half-heartedly into Stiles’ hair.

“Oh my god,” Stiles whispers, moving his head to rub his lips against Derek’s throat because it’s the quickest way to get Derek to shiver all over.  “That was so— You don’t even _know_ , Derek.”

“I was there.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t— You couldn’t _see_.”

Derek wants to argue that of course he could see just fine, thank you very much, but he knows what Stiles means.  He can’t see in himself what Stiles does.  There might not be anyone else on earth who can.  Derek tightens his arm around Stiles’ lower back.

“You’re so beautiful,” Stiles murmurs, almost like it’s a secret he doesn’t want Derek to hear, though of course Stiles knows he can.  He also knows that by now he can reach down and cup Derek’s soft cock in his hand without Derek jerking away.  “ _All_ of you.”

“Guess you can check this one off your list now,” Derek says, relaxing completely into what’s left of the pillow nest.  If Stiles wants to clean up, he’s perfectly welcome to; Derek’s fine just as he is.

“No list,” Stiles says, wiggling deeper into Derek’s arms.  “Spreadsheet.  Color coded.”

Derek only has a few moments to wonder if he should worry before he begins the gentle slide into sleep.


End file.
